


Withering

by quentintarrantino



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentintarrantino/pseuds/quentintarrantino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean ages. Castiel does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Withering

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last night and thought to post, I don't boast quality but still I hope you like it.

It was three in the morning when Dean first saw it begin.

He had gotten up out of bed, stumbling in the unfamiliar area of the motel room like usual. The heavy drinking meant he had to pee like a racehorse, nothing new there. Castiel was beside him on the bed, his eyes opened slowly as the Winchester felt his eyes study him through the dark. “Are you alright?” he asked. Sam snored on, the deep voice of Cas only making him twitch slightly.

Dean rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and nodding, half asleep still. “Bathroom.” He mumbled, letting a hand reach out to help him find his way, swearing as the light came on and blinded him. Castiel was still laying on the bed, Dean fumbled with his boxers momentarily before assuming the position, letting his head loll back as he struggled to stay awake. When he was done he went to the sink to wash his hands and grab a glass of water, running the facet he sniffed, eyes glancing up at the mirror and that was when it started.

Aging. A defined line across his forehead and the deeper lines near his eyes. He looked tired and cranky which wasn’t new but this, the wrinkles hadn’t been there before he could’ve sworn. Dean stared for way too long, pushing his face inches from the mirror.

“What are you doing?” a voice made him jump, smacking his forehead against the glass.

“Ow! Fuck Cas!” he growled, turning to shoot the angel a dirty look over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve been gone for twenty minutes.” Castiel replied, his brow crinkling as he moved forward to inspect the wound he had accidentally inflicted. “I could ask you the same question.”

Dean swatted his hand away, glancing over to the mirror again, the folds looking so much more noticeable since discovery. “Nothing, I’m just… getting old I guess.” And wasn’t it the truth. Castiel didn’t appear to understand and he wasn’t about to explain It to him at this moment in time.

“I love you in any form you wish to manifest.” The angel replied simply. “Your physical appearance is of little consequence.”

“Gee thanks really know how to make a guy feel special Cas.” Dean grumbled, turning the light to the bathroom off and blundering his way back to their bed where he collapsed, feeling Castiel’s arms circle his waist before drifting into blissful sleep.

The incident remained isolated, Dean’s work was not inhibited in any way and Castiel’s attitude towards him never changed so what was there to feel badly about? The only difference now was that he was very careful not to look in any mirrors lest he be reminded or find more wrinkles. The thing that truly bothered him was Castiel, it was something he had no control over but still Dean insisted on being sore about it.

The vessel remained the same, since the first day they met with him in that body, Castiel’s face had remained unaged and perfect. The face Dean fell in love with. That had been twelve years ago and now when he happened to see photos taken or them standing side by side he had to admit to how strange it seemed. The older Winchester’s hair wasn’t graying, but it wasn’t hard to spot who was the older of the two. Sam had a photo that he had stashed in the dashboard of the Impala for sentimental reasons, showing the two of them at a bar in Idaho.

In the picture Castiel was smiling, looking pleased with a joke he had just told that turned out to be surprisingly funny, catching Dean off guard as he threw his head back and laughed. The hunter had his arm slung around the angel’s shoulders and Castiel leaned into his touch. The photo had seemed a nice addition but now whenever Dean looked at it he felt sick, all he saw was the age gap rapidly threatening to swallow them, Castiel’s young fresh face with Jimmy Novak’s wide eyes and then him. Aging more and more every day. After a particularly hard hunting trip Dean silently removes the photograph and throws it away. Castiel remains silent even though the Winchester knows he notices its absence.

Next comes the grey hair. He didn’t really see it coming until Sam teasingly points it out one day and he rushes to a mirror to see it is indeed true. Grey streaking his temple, making his hair look slightly salt and pepper. His younger brother’s smug expression slides off his face as he sees how incredibly shaken his brother looks at the sight of the white hair sprouting up and he rushes to his side. “Hey Dean I didn’t mean it, you look fine I’m-,”

“I don’t look fine I look fucking old!” Dean snaps back at him, unable to tear his eyes away from the reflection. Castiel knows when they go to dinner, he holds Dean’s hand extra long and when they get to the motel room politely asks Sam to give them the room for a few hours. The younger Winchester looks slightly violated but does just that and the angel goes through special measures to make sure Dean knows just how important he is. The hunter sleeps soundly.

They quit hunting after that, well, almost. Occasionally a case will come up neither can ignore but they think it’s best to establish a base, a home. Dean is wary in the beginning but for some reason more and more he finds he likes the idea of settling somewhere. The house they buy is simple with three rooms, one is supposedly “Castiel’s” but he never uses it, pointing out he doesn’t sleep and the only bed he has any interest in using is one occupied with Dean. Sam announces he doesn’t care he is decorating it anyway. He has picked up quite the hobby in interior decorating and do-it-yourself.

Dean finds work at a local garage, specific for old muscle cars. He does what he loves and when he comes home he feels like he’s done something to help out, much the way Sammy feels accomplished as he reclines on the new porch he built over the week. Castiel disappears for days at a time but it’s to be expected, he always comes back which is what’s important, usually slipping into bed at odd hours of the night, shedding his trenchcoat and stripping down to boxers and a t-shirt. The angel in casual clothes is one of Dean’s favorite things.

This new way of life suits the brothers, they get lost in the grind between jobs, work, and free time. Castiel begins to disappear more and more, and when he comes back he’s always somber and quiet. Dean doesn’t like it, he tries to go on drives with the angel like they had used to before but nothing seems to work and the hunter has a sinking suspicion in the pit of his stomach he just isn’t ready to face yet. The final straw is when the angel begins to use the room that had been made for him when he goes to visit them.

Dean confronts him, his hurt fueling the anger. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Castiel says nothing and the older Winchester is speechless at the unfairness of it all. Cas’s perfect face with his big blue eyes, he looks at Dean and the sadness in his gaze is enough to wind him. “I’m… sorry.” His voice is unsteady, he reaches out and presses a hand to the hunter’s face. Before Dean can reply Castiel is gone.

The body pain comes too soon; neither brothers are ready for it. It strikes Sam first, he is hauling wood outside when something feels like it just gives out and he falls, knocking himself hard in the face. When he wakes up and manages to pull himself inside to inspect the damage he can barely move a certain way without feeling like he’ll die from the pain. The doctor tells him he has to be more careful from now on, he isn’t thirty anymore.

With Dean it’s arthritis. His fingers no longer cooperate when he wants to screw nuts and bolts in for the cars, the mechanics start doing a little more of his duties for him until he is put inside to work on the numbers instead of out there. He puts his notice in that week. His hair is mostly gray and he hasn’t lost his temper in his old age, no matter how he feels on any given day however, his Impala is always in immaculate condition.

When Dean sleeps he dreams about Castiel, about what he could be doing and how much he misses him. The angels must’ve heard, the following week he reappears on their doorstep, uneasy as ever but Sam, anxious to reconnect suggest dinner. When they get to their favorite diner the cute waitress who usually serves the brothers smiles at Castiel widely, nudging Dean who grins in return, about to introduce the angel until she speaks first. “My my my what have we here boys, Dean you didn’t tell me you had a son.”

The surprise on all three faces registers quickly but Castiel’s head turns to look at Dean, whose emotional range also reads horror. He could’ve ignored it tonight as they ate like the old times but no, it came crashing back down to earth, she had been right Dean was now old enough to be his father. The wrinkles weren’t ignorable; the way his fingers hurt when he gripped his fork was unavoidable. The older Winchester feels disgusting, even though he shouldn’t, Castiel is thousands upon thousands of years older there’s no basis for this behavior. Still he yells at the angel in the parking lot, tells him to leave and never come back. Cas looks stricken but does as he is asked.

Sam eats dinner alone in the living room.

The years go on. Time stops for no man and Dean all but forgets Castiel on a good day, he and Sam now do odd jobs around the house or help out younger hunters who may or may not need some smarter hands on deck. Copies of Bobby’s books occupy their shelves and they have multiple phone lines going, people come to them when they need help and sometimes they’re even called down to the location of the case to show them how it’s done. Nobody could kill a demon like a Winchester, and that was just the gospel truth.

Life was quiet, the years ticked by slow and steady but not painful. Dean began to forget things. Sam did his best to help his brother but some days weren’t much better for him, he would lose track of simple day to day tasks or Dean wouldn’t be able to remember what he was doing. It was a painful thing to watch but he retained his spirit through it all, covering up moments of weakness with his incessant grouchiness.

When Castiel came back for the last time Dean had debated not letting him see him like this. He used a cane sometimes to get around the house. Castiel looked as unchanged as the day they met and he had admitted to gripping him tight and raising him from perdition. The angel’s face however seemed less troubled and more bright, he sat down on the sofa and began to talk.

He spoke of all the years he had been absent, not on heavenly business but researching and speaking with fellow angels, of ways to bypass aging, to make the clock stop. There was no such thing, Castiel had found. One could not simply halt time, so Castiel had to get creative and get creative he did. He began to seek out older angels. His brothers so old some of them had even forgotten their names. He knew they still walked amongst humans and if the stories of the Nephilim were correct then they had found a way to coexist with humans for their allotted lifetimes peacefully. Dean grows confused as to why he is being told this and Castiel smiles, a young smile that the hunter hasn’t seen in years.

The angel explains that the angels of old took human wives, growing old with them until they reached the end of their lives and then as the legends went would escort them to heaven to ensure passage. The Nephilim were the children of these relationships and Castiel had been seeking them out to find the solution to the problem at hand. “I am… aware that you find my vessel’s age distracting for the nature or our relationship.” He told Dean seriously.

“Our relationship? Cas, were we ever together?” Dean chuckles, shifting his cane to the other hand and the angels tight smile gives no real answer.

“I’ve found a way.” Castiel confides. Dean realizes that all these years that he’s been gone couldn’t have been more than a week to him in angel time. To Castiel who has lived hundreds of years this was nothing but a blink of an eye. To Dean it was a lifetime spent not with him; he missed him but with age comes change.

Dean sits up a little straighter, watching the angel with a reserved look, Castiel looks confused when he doesn’t get the desired response. “Cas…” he begins but even this nickname is foreign to him. It has been too long and the angel appears to understand this. At least his eyes spark with some new understanding.

He asks if he should go and Dean nods sagely from his spot on the couch, he is not a young man anymore and he has adjusted to life without the angel, a life not spent in shame of his aging body while this flawless creature of heaven manifests in physical form to wait out his life. What could he offer him?

“You have always been more than enough.” Castiel says from the doorway. Dean doesn’t meet his eyes.

Dean doesn’t tell Sammy about Castiel returning. He says nothing to anyone for a very long time. He moves all the photo albums into his room to look at before he goes to bed. He does that until Sam finds him twitching on his bed one morning and calls an ambulance.

Stroke they say, there isn’t much that can be done. Sam understands that this is the way it has to go. He doesn’t like it but when he sits at his brother’s bedside he jokes with him, saying they lived longer than any hunter had ever hoped to live and he talked about old cases they worked from the Wendigo to Lucifer’s Cage. Sam talks until he’s hoarse, sitting in the easy chair in the hospital room. He stays until they kick him out and is always first one there in the morning.

Dean’s condition goes from bad to worse, he cannot speak and his number of days is dwindling to double digits. His brother has started skipping days of visiting. It’s too painful to watch him slowly fade to nothing; each time he goes he’s a little more unresponsive. Finger twitches have died to blinks and then not even that and the doctor’s close his eyes to keep them from drying out which Sam doesn’t like at all.

“Can you open them? For god’s sakes he looks like he’s dead!” he shouts in the doctor’s face. He is escorted out of the hospital and told if he can’t behave he cannot come back.

He doesn’t come back, but not for lack of trying and it’s alright anyway because his older brother is now in the single digits. Dean is hooked up to a breathing machine and he can still hear things that go on, he just finds himself powerless to stop them. Things are spinning down out of control and he doesn’t like it one bit. He hears people come and go and for a while he heard Sam but he has long since stopped coming and in his time of need he would’ve liked anyone to be close to.

“Dean.” A familiar voice speaks to him in the night. Dean is unable to open his eyes but he tries his hardest, a hand presses his forehead and for a moment the Winchester feels too light, as if he’ll float off the bed and he realizes he can move once more. He turns his head and sees Castiel, stoic as ever leaning over the bedside. “Hello.”

“Cas.” He chokes, voice rusty from lack of use. “Cas I’m-.”

The angels motions for him to stop talking, shaking his head. “We don’t have time. I’ve asked for a favor and they’ve said yes. Dean I’m here to take you home.” His voice is gruff but his eyes look pained.

“G-good! I’m fucking tired of this hellhole anyway. Didja stop by to see Sammy?” he asked, sitting up slightly and working on trying to move his fingers.

There is silence for a moment and then Castiel speaks again. “Dean…” his tone is so very sad. “Dean I let your reaper off, I’m here to take your soul.”

The reality of it sinks in, but it takes a long time. That Dean is not alive anymore. He feels very spry for some reason and he supposes maybe his soul is younger than his body, presuming that Castiel’s forehead touching business was separating the two. “Cas I can’t leave.” His voice sounds different, younger. “I can’t leave Sam.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Don’t worry about Sam, I will be there for him too when his time comes, it won’ be long either-,”

“Whoa whoa whoa… what?!”

“Sam’s prayed to me every night for a year Dean and his only request is that he be allowed to follow you in the event you aren’t with him anymore. His request has been accepted due to all he has done for heaven. It will be quick and painless, a car accident on his way to make funeral arrangements for you.” Castiel’s tone is soothing, he should’ve been a reaper it would’ve suited him.

Dean doesn’t like this feeling of overwhelming young, he feels much more emotional. “You can’t do that. Cas I’m begging you just give me more time.”

“There’s no more time Dean this is it. You’re young again, you’re going to paradise to see everyone. You’ve been so brave and worked so hard and here we are. Perhaps I’m not the one you wanted to see?” he cocks his head to the side.

Castiel’s hurt seems so much more readable to him than ever before, maybe it came with age and Dean shakes his head no fiercely. “No, I need to stay here with Sammy.” He repeats.

“That’s not possible.”

“There’s gotta be a way.”

“There’s not.”

“Dammit Castiel!” his exasperated tone brings a smile to the angel’s lips.

“Just like old times.” He murmurs. “Take my hand, it won’t hurt, it’s time to go.”

The Winchester wonders what the Dean Castiel had once known would’ve done. He most likely would’ve run away. Hidden forever as a ghost to be killed by a hunter. Young Dean would’ve found a way to stay with his brother but he was no longer young, he was an old man, filled with regret and he was so very tired. Slowly he reached forward and let Castiel’s fingers wrap around his like they had so long ago in a form of affection. The hand that was connected to his body was so young, the skin firm and he bet his face was too.

There was a flash of light and then Castiel was standing near him, they were inside a bar he knew only too well, Cas was smiling, looking pleased with himself. A blonde woman came out, smiling her brightest smile and embracing him with open arms. “Dean.”

The Winchester lets his arms wrap around her waist and he buries his face in her shoulder. “Mom.”

Mary pulls away to cup his cheek. “Castiel has kept me up to date on everything. I’m so proud of you.”

Dean looks embarrassed as his eyes found the floor. “Thanks.”

They talk for a while but Mary needs to go back to wherever she was and Dean is reluctant to see her go but that doesn’t stop her from vanishing with a final goodbye hug and a wink. Castiel is sitting on a bar stool when he turns around, he is studying the Winchester. “You seem displeased.”

He was. But he wasn’t sure why or what reason he had for being displeased. He had handled being dead really well, the fact that Sammy was not with him was bothersome. But there was nothing he could do about it now, he didn’t like this body he’d been placed in, the young version of himself. When he had been younger he had been a selfish bastard, this skin symbolized all that had gone wrong.

Castiel frowned. “You didn’t want to be with me when you started to age.” He said as if he could hear his thoughts, maybe he could. “I did this so we could be together again.”

This is not what Dean wants, to be the person he had been all those years ago and he feels maybe he will digress if left alone to his own devices. He was wrong to send the angel away, he knows this. Reaching out for him Castiel moved forward immediately, letting his hand be taken. “I’ve never stopped wanting to be with you Cas, you idiot.” He said with a small smile. Castiel blinked at him. The face he had missed so much, but their time had passed and he sensed even the angel knew it. Leaning in he let his lips snag against Cas’s mouth and the angel made a noise that made him tingle. He remembered it well, it was almost a hum of satisfaction.

When they pull apart his brow crinkles in confusion. “You sent me away.” He murmured. “You told me to never go back.”

Dean doesn’t know how to explain, he felt so ashamed of his behavior. “I wasn’t the same.” He replied. “I wasn’t the Dean you knew.”

“You’ve never changed. This is why I continued to go back to you. Your age did not bother me, all I wanted was you and you told me to leave.” His tone was bland but he heard accusations.

They talk for a long time, about this and Dean apologizes for everything, they stay at the bar, Castiel leaning into him as Dean sips whiskey and they exchange memories together. It’s nice, maybe not permanent but it’s nice for right now. They aren’t interrupted and they are free with their affection, they kiss and touch. The Winchester is making up for lost years and watching Castiel smile is too good of an opportunity to give up.

Dean wonders if this is the heaven his mind selected for him. His piece of eternity, here with Castiel forever. The angel’s lips find his neck and he closes his eyes, twisting his fingers in his hair. Sam wouldn’t be alone, Castiel had promised the brothers wouldn’t be separated.

Heaven tasted like Cas’s mouth and the feel of sheets pressed against his back.


End file.
